Wounded Soldiers
by Wolf-Shadow's-Ghost
Summary: After a battle gone wrong, a wounded mabari has time to consider his equally wounded mistress and his newest, and oddest, pack.
1. The Finding

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Dragon Age Origins, Bioware does.  
In fact, Bioware also currently owns my soul.  
Curse you for making such amazing story orientated and character driven games! Curssssee yooouuu!  
In all seriousness, I got the game a few days after its release date, and it owned me right from the start.  
See? I even started writing this fan fiction before I was even halfway through the story.

This started as a short one-shot piece and quickly grew into a multiple chapter story, one that had a life of it's own and kept on going until it was done.  
I shall be uploading the next few chapters shortly, until then, please enjoy, and it would be lovely if you reviewed.

* * *

1. The Finding

Consciousness was slow to return to him, starting with the vague awareness that he was in pain. In itself, that fact wasn't enough to worry him as his mind worked it's way from the black edge of the abyss, bred and born for fighting, pain was just a fact of his life, and he accepted it without question. However, in this case, as his awareness spread out over his form, he knew he was hurt far worse than normal, and he was also aware that he should be grateful that he was pulling himself away from the blackness, and his next actions would determine whether or not he would be sliding back any time soon.

The next sense he regained was of smell, though it didn't serve any greater purpose, because all he could smell was blood. Lots of blood, a few hours old at the very least, judging by the heavier scent of wetted earth. Again, not such a strange thing for him to awaken too, bread and butter they would say, as common a scent in his life as the ash-and-pitch paint that traced patterns in his coat.

He drew a long inhale through his thick muzzle, feeling the sharp sting of a re-opening wound in his side, and a fresh layer of his own oozing blood slither through whatever strands of his fur that weren't already caked together. For a long moment, it was all he could do to stay awake, just to fight through the pain and dizziness, but he managed, and the moment gave him the opportunity to put his sharp ears to good use.

This sense told him more about his particular situation than the last two, for there were sounds to be heard, the mild chirping of crickets, grass parting way from the light breeze, the light flutter of wings, all so very different from the normal crescendo of battle, and yet somehow, it still sounded tentative. He could just barely make out the sounds of scurrying forest animals, but predator and prey alike were tentative, and now, thanks to the breeze, he could smell them, and he smelled fear.

Whatever had happened was now over, but not long enough ago for others not to be wary, and therefore, not long enough ago for him to be off his guard.

Mistress!

Suddenly he knew a fire in his limbs that pushed against the pain and the weariness. He was here, still living no matter how badly hurt, and the fighting was over, where was his mistress?

He opened his eyes only to be met with the scene he knew had existed about him from the second of his awakening. It was night, and very deeply into night, if the position of the sliver of the moon was any indication, but somehow the faint light given by the waned disk only made the scene more gruesome.

Corpses lay strewn about the uneven clearing all around him, crumpled in odd positions, and resting in great swathes of mud created by their own blood, cuts from short blades and mauled limbs from sharp teeth adorned every cold body. Their already inhuman and contorted faces stretched further still in what had been their death throws.

But that didn't matter now, he had seen dozens of such spectacles, and had he the mind to, would probably guess that he would see many more if he lived through this night. Now he barley even registered the twisted lump of a knurled skinned creature that had probably been his own kill, so intent was he on getting to his feet.

Find mistress.

The simple thought was enough to elected a determined growl from deep within his chest, and he stubbornly brought his legs under his form and shoved himself up.

He stood on all fours, wide head held high and defiant amidst the death all around him, for a few seconds.

His left hind leg gave way from under him, and his back end slid painfully back to the ground, the moment of bravado passed, and he felt the nearly overwhelming pain of broken bones. He whined and craned his thick neck around to stare at his large paw, which was now nearly as crumpled and twisted as some of the bodies around him. Dried blood clung to his light brown fur, and it had mixed in with the white war paint that traced bone lines across his whole body, streaks of the mix ran down the broken limb and stung in the places were he had accidentally reopened the breaks in his skin.

No matter, he hauled himself up once more, balancing his great weight across his three good paws, he had a job to do, he had to find her.

And so the great mambari hound limped passed the lifeless clumps of his darkspawn foes, forcing himself away from his fallen place, to seek out what was his. He didn't have much luck, even with his sight of the night, the bodies all around were clumped close together, and in some places laying over one another, the freshly dead having fallen upon the bodies of their already fallen comrades, making it difficult to make one creature out from the other. The blood of goodly folk smelled different from that of the blight, but the stench of darkspawn blood hung heavily about this forest clearing, choking off every other smell with little effort.

It all served to make his search even more desperate, his own lack of strength often forcing him to make circles around a pile of bodies that at any other time he would recognize as enemies, and his pain only making him more and more afraid as he walked near the edge of the battlefield and turned about to look in a different direction.

But despite his own pain, he stayed vigilant, focused, and he was rewarded.

The slight moon disappeared behind a wisp of a cloud for a moment, then quickly reappeared, casting it's light off of something bright silver.

The dog brought his head up swiftly, then rushed as quickly as he could to the source of the twinkle. Not even the finest of darkspawn craft made a refection like that.

Mistress!

He had found her at last.

On the opposite side of the battlefield she lay, half laying on her back atop a darkspawn corpse in who's skull was buried a single silver dagger, her small elven frame delicate against the harsh brute she had felled. Her hair snared in the rough edges of her foes armor, and the curling black tattoo upon her forehead was nearly completely obscured by a layer of blood not unlike the one that he bore. Had he been able to see color clearly in this dim light, he would still have been hard pressed to distinguish between the stain of her forehead and her naturally blood red hair, but as it was, the pallor of her face was something he could easily see.

He whined as he approached her, now he could smell her blood, and it was far too strong here for his liking, too much of the stain beneath the two was from her, and it would've been easier for him to keep track of the places where her pale skin shone out in the moonlight free of blood, rather than count the numerous places where it seeped from.

Completely ignoring the dead darkspawn, he stepped right up to his mistress and sniffed her, then recoiled slightly, she smelled of darkspawn blood almost more than she smelled of her own. Though if the battlefield had been any indication, it was a right she had earned.

Tentatively, fearfully, he lay his sensitive nose against her throat -breathing heavily through his muzzle to keep from being overpowered by the mixed stench of blood- and waited.

Her skin moved! The rhythm was weak at best, but it was there.

He let out a long slow breath and lifted his head to study her again. Calmer now, he now saw the slight rise and fall of her chest beneath her drake scale amour, and -getting closer- could feel the rush of air pass by her slightly open lips.

There was a sudden sharp *crack* from somewhere in the woods behind him, and his twisted his head about to snarl.

It wasn't safe here, he knew, if more darkspawn didn't stumble across the grisly scene and decide to end what their kin could not, then the wild creatures of the forest would try to finish them, for out of the whole clearing, the two of them were the only things that the natural carnivores would even consider a meal. In the shape he was in, the mabari doubted he could defend himself properly, let alone his unconscious mistress.

He looked back to her.

Her right hand still loosely clasped the hilt of her long sword, just as coated in blood as the pair of them, just as covered as her amour.

What about the others? The other people should be worried, should be looking. Strange and unfamiliar as they were to the hound, together they were a pack, he knew that much about them. A true pack stood together, sought each other out when they went missing, brought down their foes together. It had been this way in his last pack, before the death of his first chosen, but even with the vast differences between all the members of this new pack, he understood one thing, each was unfailingly loyal to his mistress, she was alpha, even to the taller humans, and they trusted her.

And they should be worried about her.

A loud screeching from the woods pulled the hound from his reasoning, and he whined as he nuzzled against her sharp featured face, hoping to rouse some reaction, to get her to choose what do to next, but to no avail. He knew what he had to do, but also knew in doing so, that he could harm her more than he would help her.

A renewed stab of pain from his mangled paw reminded him of the alternative, and set him into action. Moving down onto his forelegs so that his chest dragged against the ground, he crawled forward and pushed his large head in-between her back and the side of the darkspawn she was using as a bed.

Carefully maneuvering his large bulk under the slight weight of his mistress without using all four of his legs was a greater challenge than he could of thought. But not once did the thought of giving up ever enter his mind, just as the thought of leaving the battlefield without finding her had never entered his mind, or the thought of leaving the weakened grey warden to her fate had never entered his mind.

She was his everything, he had killed for her, and he would die for her, without even giving it a second thought.

Such was the way of the mabari.

His continued wheedling jostled her position, and the great sword slipped from her loose hand as he managed to slid his long neck under her back, and as he tentatively rose higher up onto his feet, his momentum made her form slid down just slightly, so more of her weight was supported solely by his strong back.

It took a few moments of fumbling, and a couple of retries, but it was no small feat when he slowly stood up to his full height and took her fully from the ground. She had rolled over his back as he forced his way between her and her dead foe, so now she was slung across his back, her abdomen pressing down against his spine, delicate hands hanging limply towards the ground.

She was lighter than he had expected, the drake scale amour merely a fine extra layer of skin, as opposed to the heavy plates that grey-tainted-man wore, the kinds emblazoned with the templer sword. The thought made him whine again, grey-tainted-man should be worried for them, should be looking…

But they couldn't stay here any longer. If the others were going to find them here, they would've done so already, and his mistress didn't have time to wait in this meadow of death, she needed to be somewhere safer, and he intended to take her there, no matter how long it would take. Slowly, he made to turn around, taking his body in as wide a circle as possible so as to keep her weight balanced, no easy task as he limped horribly along.

As he hobbled past her former resting place, his sharp eyes fell over her weapons, the long sword half drowned in the bloody earth, and the glittering dagger stuck fast in the skull of the darkspawn. He hated to leave her metal fangs here, open and attainable to any kind of riff-raff, they where hers alone, extensions of her very arms as much as his claws were. Her best defense. But there was no way he could take them both, her slight weight would tire him far faster than he would have liked anyway, and the metal was useless to him, and, so long as she was knocked out, to her as well. But still…

Deciding quickly, he maneuvered himself and wrapped his strong jaws around the hilt of the sparkling dagger, then pulled experimentally, the enchanted blade didn't so much as budge. Determined as ever, he tried again, yanking harder and harder with every pull, growling in frustration even as the weakened bone began to crumble under his efforts. In one last desperate motion, he yanked backward with all his weight, and the blade came free, surprising him. He stumbled back, and felt his mistresses weight slid off to one side, forcing him to put his injured foot down to keep her firmly upon his back. He whined horribly as the hurt paw took his weight, but he stood tall, prize clenched in his teeth, and his mistress still slung safely over him.

No more dawdling, he had done all he could here, and the sounds he had made would likely attract attention, and they were far too vulnerable in the dark. Doggedly, he resumed his walk across the field, picking his way between the piles he had only just examined in his search for his mistress, heading directly for the tree line, where they could become lost in shadows.

Her body jostled against his ribs with every bouncing limp, and he was aware of more warm oozing liquid spilling down his back, but he didn't slow, pushing his way through the thick brush and into the trees. He didn't have anywhere specific to go, wasn't following any logical path, instead focusing upon getting far away, still hoping that the pack would find them first.

The others in the pack, mistresses trusted them all, and therefore, so did he, even if he didn't particularly like a few of them. Grey-tainted-man teased him often, making odd faces and saying strange things, trying to feed him the awful burnt bits of his meal, but he also stood strong beside both of them, defending mistress with his strong shield in battle, and making her laugh in the peace of camp. The three of them, he knew, shared something that the others did not, the clawing black taint of their enemies, mistress and Grey-tainted-man were the last of their first pack, and they found a deep trust and comradely in that fact. Pack mates no matter the circumstance, standing tall for each other.

They had been gone so long, just the two of them.

Did Grey-tainted-man know? Would he try to find them?

The sharp tasted of metal was a welcome relief from the bitter poison of darkspawn blood, and he retained his tight hold upon the weapon, even though it would catch and pull upon the brambles and branches he forced his bulk through. He had always fought so hard, this was just a different kind of battle, and he would win it, no question.

A sudden whoosh of wings forced him to a stumbling halt, and twist his head this way and that, frantically looking for the source, to try to tell if it was a threat, or just another watcher of the night.

A slight motion on a low tree branch to his right showed him that it was the former, this time. A deathly black crow, glimmering gloomily in the faint white light, watched the pair with what could have been called an air of contempt, or perhaps indifference.

Either way, the look reminded him of dragon-eyed-lady. Dark in nearly every respect, she always bedded far away from the rest, always just on the fringe of the pack, it had occurred to him that she wasn't the only member that preferred her presence there.

"Like a bad cold," Grey-tainted-man had said to mistress once. "Always there, just on the edge, not close enough to fight off with a sharp stick, but not far enough away to just block out."

Mistress had rolled her eyes.

Dragon-eyed-lady liked no one, and him least of all, despite his continued interest in her. Perhaps it was because mistress was always interested and attentive to her as much as any other, or perhaps because of the way dragon-eyed-lady could morph into animal shapes, some much like his own. At any rate, it seemed both his, and mistress's, attempts at friendship had been, as yet, completely fruitless. Still, she fought hard alongside them both, her dark wooden staff channeling great energies to strike at their foes, casting terrifying spells to become a spider and crash right into the fray, his personal favorite way to do battle.

Even if the battles didn't end quite well…

Just a short scouting mission, mistress had said, wouldn't be gone long, nothing to worry about…

He hoped that dragon-eyed-lady at least cared that they still hadn't returned. If nothing else, she could turn into a wolf and track them. Better her than an actual wild pack.

The crow watched impassively as he went on, weaving between the thick trunks and trying his best not to make his pace too uneven. Both of them were in pain, there was no need to sacrifice speed for more energy sapping agony.

His large feet found their way to a well worn deer path, just wide enough for his broad form to pass through, unhindered by the forest growth. This path he would follow. If any creature knew a place of safety, it was the largest of the forest prey. With their soft faces and large eyes.

So much like the face of the lady-who-sung.

Her voice was soft, and she talked differently than the rest, but she had always shown him great respect, kind words came as easily to her as deadly arrows flew from her bow. She would always have a pat on the head for him, or a particularly juicy bit of meal from her own stew, a kind twinkle in her eyes that resembled the stars above him now.

Better yet, lady-who-sung liked mistress, likely her greatly, and was always there in the few times where mistress's strength failed her. Lady-who-sung pulling out her own double blades to stand over mistress, protecting her just as fiercely as he himself did.

Lady-who-sung wished for a deeper connection to mistress, and if his elven beauty never figured that out, he would do his best help lady-that-sung show her, for all their sakes.

Lady-who-sung would be concerned for them, wouldn't she? Could she convince the others to look for them? Did they even know where to start?

The deer path had begun to incline, slowly at first, but gaining steepness with every step. It wasn't until now that he began to notice how weary he was becoming. He panted hard around the hilt, and his back ached with the pressure, his hurt foot was now mostly numb, and he knew that he would have to try to keep it somewhat warm. Keep the blood flowing, lest he lose all feeling.

Lose feeling, lose the limb. Such a thing had been all to common in his former pack mates, he would not let it happen to him.

At least mistress still felt warm upon his fur, and so long as she was warm, he would press on.

The trail continued up the hill, and it wasn't until he reached a breach in the trees, where the moon shone unhindered upon the hard earth, that he stopped to study his location. They were high above the forest now, upon this hill, and he tried to see something, anything, that might given him any kind of clue.

Nothing, he couldn't even make out the battlefield clearing in the crush of trees below, and no smoke from a fire anywhere around. Had he been overly concerned with their location, he would've worried about being fairly lost, as it was, he was merely glad he had gotten them this far.

His break didn't last long, and it only took a few paces before the two of them where shadowed over by the trees again, completely blocking their view of the valley below.

A few more fumbling steps into the trees, and he slipped slightly, the ground going down far deeper than it should. He managed to catch himself before either of them fell, but it was a close thing. He had to stop again to readjust his footing, and he studied the thing that had caused the problem in the first place.

It was a massive paw print, pressed deeply into the trail. He knew it was days old, both by the fact that it was so deeply pressed into the earth,-back when the ground had been wet with the rains,- and because of the faded scent. Regardless, he still felt primeval fear at the sight and smell.

It was a bear print, and judging by it's size, one of the great brown bears, though it was still a large paw even by that massive species' standards.

Much like the man-of-bronze-skin was massive compared to all the other two legs in the pack.

The only thing short about that man was the way he talked. He said what he meant, and always meant what he said, and that was just the way it was. Battle and blood and death, were facts to man-of-bronze-skin, it was the way it was, and it was something they shared in common. The man was almost more beast like than dragon-eyed-lady after morphing, and he had no qualms or self worries about it. Man-of-bronze-skin held the kind of beastly warrior respect he would've thought only possible from the other dogs of his packs, and he liked the giant man for that.

Mistress liked him for that too.

Nearly as wildly rugged as both of them by nature, she hailed from the roaming packs of elves, who lived as hunters, ever on the move, ever at the mercy of the wilds. If there was one thing she and man-of-bronze-skin understood that the others did not, it was that if no words were needed, then they need not be spoken. Complicating things for pointless reasons was worse than willingly forgoing weaponry for the sake of pride. The wisest were sometimes the quietest.

Man-of-bronze-skin would not fret over their long absence, wouldn't question why, or where, or how, if there was something he could do to help them, he would just do it. If he felt there wasn't anything to be done, he wouldn't cloud himself with 'what-if's?' or 'now-what's?' he'd move on to the next thing, the next fight.

Much like he was now just moving on, focusing on the seconds of the night, and not the worries of the dawn.

The bear wouldn't be a worry of the dawn, he knew. The track was old, and it was moving perpendicular of the deer trail anyway. What was a worry right that moment, as he pressed on, was that he was exhausted, his own wounds and blood loss catching up with him faster than he could ignore it. But he wouldn't give up just yet, he could still feel her warm breath touching his side, she still needed him.

He realized suddenly that he held his mouth open wide, his long tongue lolling out around his hard fangs, the weight and taste of the dagger now gone. His step hesitated slightly, he couldn't even remember when he had let the blade fall from his grip, didn't even think he had be consciously aware of his actions, but he realized it had probably been for the better, her weight was increasing with every passing minute, and unloading the unusable weapon might have given him a few more moments of strength he could use to taken them even farther forward.

So it was without even a backward glance that he again moved forward.

He wasn't sure how long he went on, nor exactly where the deer trail was leading, but he kept on, blindly knowing the further they got from the clearing and the slaughtered darkspawn, the better. A fork in the trail only briefly slowed him, the trail to the right was fainter, far less used, but there none-the-less, and he followed that one, thinking that perhaps there would be a safe place to stop, if just for a moment.

He was rewarded for his instincts when the trail wound into a miniature valley, sheltered on both sides by sloping hills and overhanging trees. The ground here was layered with flattened grasses, each oval in shape and large enough for a human to lie in. A deer nesting ground, as safe a place as he could find, and now, moving with agony in every part of his body, he staggered to the center of the enclave and unceremoniously collapsed.

For the briefest of seconds, the hound was selfish. He lay on his belly, breathing hard and completely ignoring his burden, but he regretted it instantly, and slowly, carefully, moved to shift his mistress's lithe form from his back.

He could go no further with her weight upon him, and for him, it was the same as saying he was too weary to go on at all. He would never, ever, leave her.

Her head lolled limply as he slid her to the ground, loose strands of hair tangling with the short grass. Half upon her back and half upon her side, the elf lay defenseless and as bloodied as ever.

He had brought them as far as he could, and had another duty now. As far from danger as they could get, they needed to recover. Laying back down upon his belly, he extended his head and began to lick the dried blood from her forehead. Cleansing the sticky mess from the halla-antler tattoo, and hopefully, from the wound from whence the blood had come. A ritual as old as the ash warriors themselves, the saliva of the mabari hound was well known to help heal even the greatest of wounds, and it was an action he preformed without thought, just as he attended to her hurts first.

Still, he wished for the healing touch of the soft-voiced-lady.

She could make even the deepest cut seal itself with the briefest word, then she would run her careworn, but still soft, hands over the hurt, easing whatever sting remained. Then she would have a kind word of encouragement, or a mild, but caring, admonishment over being hurt in the first place.

The two of them seemed the only ones to share the trait of knowing when mistress was troubled or upset over something, and while he could offer a shoulder to curl up into, and wet kisses for support, soft-voiced-lady had words of comfort to impart, wisdom brought from long years of life, and she would offer it without judgment or platitudes. How many times mistress had walked into her tent with a tense face and tired eyes, stood and talked, even for a few moments, and then come away with her calm determination back in place, he could not remember. But he did remember that soft-voiced-lady would also seek his mistress out when she knew that the elf was troubled and unwilling to admit it, and help to work it out.

A simple, "What's on your mind, dear?" had promoted more than one painful conversation that his mistress would have otherwise carried with her, like a heavy and tangled ball of yarn, and for that, he had a greater respect for soft-voiced-lady than he had for the others. Mistress was Alpha, but soft-voiced-lady was caretaker, to all and without question.

Soft-voiced-lady would be worried about them, but she would use that worry to rouse the others, to use her age and experience to direct them in the right course to seek them out.

There would be help for them, he was sure, but would it be in time?

He had no way to know.

Her face was completely cleansed of blood, her too pale skin glowing out from the spiraling black curves of the tattoo, and throwing into sharp relief the viscous cut that ran from temple to cheekbone, barely missing her right eye. He ran his rough tongue over the uneven scab, drawing forth fresh lines of blood in places, but knowing that in doing so he would help her heal cleanly, hopefully diminishing the scarring.

That done, he moved he head back and studied the rest of her body.

He was hard pressed to find anyplace that wasn't coated in dried blood, but he also knew that he could do little, if not nothing, for the wounds under her amour. Whatever lucky arrow or sword tip had found it's way between the tightly woven drake scales would have be quickly hidden again by the shifting of the scales, and though much of the dried blood had oozed it's way between the thin cracks, his tongue just couldn't get enough saliva to make it's way to the wounds. At best, he would merely be cleaning her amour, and frankly that wouldn't do either of them any good at the moment.

So he concentrated on the few places her skin was uncovered. Neck, chest, arms and legs being the targets, he went about his duty, always aware of her shallow breathing, and faint pulse under her skin. He did the best he could, growing more tired with each passing stroke of his tongue, even as the deep night ever wore on, until every part of her skin was mostly cleared of both her blood and the blood of the darkspawn, until each and every cut, nick, and puncture was clearly visible. And while he was satisfied with his job, he was also worried.

She was growing cold.

The blood loss would have been the biggest factor, but she was also unconscious and unmoving, and in the darkest part of night, there was no warmth to be spared from anywhere around them.

She could probably survive the wounds she had sustained, especially now since it seemed they had all stopped bleeding, but only if she didn't succumb to the cold, if they both didn't freeze to death first.

The solution was fairly easy, but he was wary of broken bones. As he had carried her, he had been aware that certain places in her chest felt far softer that they should have been, but it was her already soft abdomen laying across his spine and as long as he had walked carefully, he had been able to avoid jostling those soft points too much. But in order to keep her warm, to keep them both warm, he had to lie on top of her, and he knew all too well how easy it was to slid into oblivion from internal damage.

"The greatest warriors often fall from the wounds they cannot see."

In his darkened weariness, he could not recall where he had heard it, but he knew it to be true. Still, it was either cause more pain and stay together,-and warm,- or freeze separately and in only slightly less pain. An easy choice compared to what he had been deciding all night long.

So it was with the greatest care that he rose back upon his shaking legs and made to stand over her, then lowered his torso down to gently lie upon her abdomen. Carefully twisting his head and shoulders, he slowly lay his broad head against her ribs.

He had been right, the instant he let down, he felt a few of the bones sink, and her breathing became erratic, pained.

He quickly lifted his head back up as she coughed, her stomach rising and falling harshly below him, as fresh blood spilled from her lips. He was grateful that the fit didn't last long, her breathing slowing back down to shallow gasps, instead of wrenching coughs, and the trickle of the blood stemming itself slowly.

He wouldn't try that again, this was the best position for warmth they could get without causing more harm. It turned out to work more in his favor anyway, as he finally turned his attention to his own pained body, more specially to his broken paw.

He looked himself over quickly before choosing the fist target of his attention. In all honestly, he had been hurt far worse before, barring the broken limb, and considered himself lucky that his mistress had kept their foes occupied enough to keep them from beating upon him after he had lost conciseness.

Tending carefully to the tender flesh of his paw, he considered that last thought. He didn't remember much of the fight, as it was much like so many others,-they blurred together, one into the other,- but he did remember that the pair of them had done fairly well, considering, and he did know that it seemed like a battle they could win if they stayed close and watched out for each other.

Unfortunately, it seemed the darkspawn knew that too, and somehow, in the chaos of battle, he had lost track of her, and become overwhelmed. He might have gotten out of it, if not for a cheap shot aimed at the back of his head as he was recoiling from a flame spell. He remembered falling, blackness creeping into his vision, his foes pressing in around, going for the kill…

Then nothing.

A sharp pain from his paw reminded him to pay better attention to what he was doing, but it still bothered the hound. By all rights, he should be dead, unless…

He turned his gaze back to the pain lined face of his mistress. Had she managed to distract them? Had she brought them all to her, to fight and to fall under her blades, drawn them far from his wounded form to keep him safe?

It would explain why she had been so far from him on the battlefield, and why she was so very badly hurt.

Deep in his soul, the mabari knew hurt.

He had never given a thought to giving up his life for hers, such was the way of the hounds, but the idea that she might have died for him was almost more than his animal heart could bear. He had failed her in battle, and in his mind, not even the mile long hike baring her broken form could redeem him for that.

But he was a dog, and more than that, he was a proud mabari hound, he would not wallow in guilt, he would do better, be stronger, and never again would this event repeat itself.

That thought over, he went back to his foot.

Somehow, from her amour he caught the faintest smell of wet leather, and it reminded him of yet another pack member.

Elf-that-purred loved leather, he wore nothing but leather, and in his strange purring speak he would talk to mistress about equally strange tales that she seemed to find amusing. Elf-that-purred was a good fighter, quick on his feet, and an elf both like and unlike mistress, but he wasn't all together sure whether he liked the dark skinned person or not.

Elf-that-purred hadn't shown any particular interest or disinterest in him, hadn't talked to him like the others did, but didn't purposely ignore him like dragon-eye-lady often did.

But he liked mistress, and not in the same way as lady-who-sung did, the hound could smell exactly how he liked mistress. A hot, and heavy smell that made him wary, and distrustful, but mistress hadn't really acted as though she minded, and until elf-that-purred did something she didn't like, he was perfectly content to remain as neutral to elf-that-purred as dark man did to him.

In truth, he didn't know if their disappearance would concern elf-that-purred, but he figured that he might just be the type to join a search if it was what everyone else was doing. The man seemed like that kind of personality.

His paw thoroughly cleansed, he turned his head over his front legs. Now there was nothing he could do but wait, watch and hope. His last, and most important duty of the night, to keep vigil over them both. To make sure that after all his efforts, they weren't finished off in their sleep by a hungry or annoyed forest predator. The thought crossed his mind that there might be something he could do to help the others find them, howling perhaps, barking long and loud.

He blew through his heavy lips and set his head down upon his front paws.

There was no guarantee that the others would even come this way, and no way to know if there might be other creatures with less than pure intentions that would follow his ruckus just as easily.

To much to risk, not enough to gain, not with their odds. Far better to wait out the night, hope that mistress would reawaken with the dawn, and they could seek out their pack together.

For the moment, the hound would simply have to try to stay awake.

A task easier thought than done, the night dragged by slowly, and more than once he jerked his head up and shook it vigorously, blinking his blearily eyes at the still woods all around them, which echoed with all the normal nightly sounds, other creatures going on with life, as though nothing was happening.

What felt like ages later, he had his head lying again upon his paws, their shared body heat slowly pulsing through them both, he was on the very brink of dozing off, he became suddenly aware that the sound around him had changed, the animals drawing silent as they only did when danger approached. He could hear it now too, faint but present.

Footfalls.

Too light to be any of the darkspawn, but there were many other dangers in the land besides the blight, enough to cause him no small amount of worry, especially since they seemed to be drawing nearer.

They were unevenly paced, and poorly concealed. Whoever, or whatever, wasn't hiding, wasn't afraid, but tracking. The footfalls reached the point where he knew the deer trail split, and he held his head high, ears straining.

For the longest of moments, there was no sound, none at all, then his fears where confirmed, the footfalls were following the secondary path. This was no coincidence, they had been tracked, and, he realized too late, they were trapped in this canyon. The deer who nested here were quick on their feet and light, they could easily bound up the hills on either side and escape, but not even at top strength could he match that. They were trapped.

The footfalls slowed in pace even as they drew closer, and the hound forced himself to his feet, drawing back his lips to show off his impressive rows of teeth. They were discovered, no point in remaining quiet, at least he could try to scare off what ever it was.

He let out a loud and impressive snarl as the footsteps came upon the edge of the brush, preventing him from seeing his foe, and the breeze blew the wrong way, blind in every aspect.

Desperate to protect all that he had, he snarled louder and barked, snapping his teeth together for added effect. Bravado really, but the best he could give.

From the brush came a voice he recognized, even though the words he did not.

A thin two leg pushed his way passed the brush and stepped fully into the clearing, staring down at them both in a mixture of great relief and greater worry upon his sharp face, in his hand he clutched mistress's dagger, the one he had dropped along the trail.

He stopped his growling instantly. It was elf-that-purred, his amour and hands dirty from the grim on the trail, and caked with dried blood, his forehead lined with worry.

"You know me dog, I know you do." Elf-that-purred spoke directly to him in that strange accent of his. "I only want to help."

The hound was aware that the darker elf thought he meant to attack him, thought that maybe he had lost his mind, or was mad with the fury to keep his mistress safe, so with no other means to communicate, he backed off of her still form and nuzzled her face, whining pitifully.

Taking the invitation, elf-that-purred strode quickly over to them and fell to his knees, his hands going for her face and wrist, sighing with relief when he found her pulse. His nimble fingers quickly went for a pack upon his back and undid the strings in the blink of an eye, rolling out a large rough blanket, which he draped over the other elf.

Then his dark eyes found those of the worried hound.

"You brought her all this way?" the tone was incredulous as he glanced around the clearing. "by yourself?" the elf studied the blood patterns along his back, quickly understanding how he had done it. "Carried her all the way…" he let out a low whistle and ran his fingers over the dagger he had set on the ground. "I suppose Alistair was right about you dogs, I didn't think it was possible, but…"

He whined again, sitting back on his haunches to relieve the weight from his tender feet, and nudged her face again softly.

Elf-that-purred blinked and shook his head. "Yes, yes… you're right my friend. We need to focus upon her now." he tucked the edges of the blanket in around her. "I don't think it a good idea to move her again, not until Wynne looks at her, but I can't leave the two of you again to go for the others…"

He watched the elf furrow his brow in thought, still smoothing out the blanket.

"You did good, bringing her here, you know that, eh pooch?"

The mabari had the feeling elf-that-purred was really only talking to help himself think, but listened attentively anyway.

"By the time us back at camp had grown worried and tracked you to that clearing, the darkspawn had overrun the place again, and were trampling around the woods looking for those responsible." he let out a dark chuckle, "of course, at first, we thought you had been killed and were being eaten along with the bastards you felled." another dark laugh. "those beasts regretted every last miserable second of their lives, we all made sure of it."

So he had been right in taking them away from that place, the thought gave the hound comfort, just as much as the appearance of elf-that-purred.

"afterwards, we realized that nothing of you could be found,-apart from her sword that is,- and we," he paused and looked up at the hound again. "we all hoped that meant you got away, and all of us have been searching all night."

Elf-that-purred reached his hand across mistress's prone form and to the mabari's surprise, scratched roughly behind his ear.

"Good dog, you kept the warden safe."

The oddly touching moment lasted only a few seconds, then the dark elf's attention was back upon mistress, still thinking about how to call the others. "We all went off in different directions, it would take too long find every one at once…" He snapped his fingers suddenly, grinning grimly. "We need them to find us."

Wearily he tilted he head and 'humphed' in his throat, if that was as easily said as done, he would have made sure they were found a long time ago, and probably by someone with a little more healing skill.

"Ah, ah, my doubting friend," elf-that-purred wagged a finger at him, still grinning. "the wonders of opposable thumbs. You've done your part, now it is my turn." he looked back down at mistress and moved the blanket from her side, his hands seeking out pouches on her belt. "forgive me, my lady, but this is for your own sake." he withdrew a palm sized vial of a yellowish liquid.

Even in the dim light the hound recognized the burning liquid, and he leaned his head closer, not having the faintest idea how this might help the others find them.

Elf-that-purred did not hesitate, quickly slinging his long bow from his back, and fishing out both an arrow and a thick piece of string. "I'm not a sharp a shot as Leliana, it's true," he began to tie the small flask to the shaft. "but, I always hit my mark when it matters most," he stood, drawing the bottle equipped arrow back upon his bow as he pointed it to the night sky. "and nothing matters more than the life of a friend." the last sentence was spoken in a whisper, as though elf-that-purrs was afraid to admit it to himself.

Then the arrow was let loose, soaring upwards with a sharp whistle, he quickly lost track of it in the dark sky, but elf-that-purrs did not, and a mere split second later, another arrow was notched in the bow, the tip of this one glowing a bright fire red, and just as the first arrow's momentum reached it's peak, the second was released. Streaking up to the near pinhead of a target.

The second arrow hit it's mark perfectly, the tip glowing white hot, slicing straight through the glass and into the liquid as though it was paper.

The flask exploded out in a bright and loud flash, it's height so great that the light lit up the tops of trees for miles around. What little liquid didn't burst into flames immediately, slithered down a short way before the flame caught up, and more popping explosions blinded out even the light of the stars.

Every living thing across the forest bore witness to the improvised firework, including the five humans that had spread themselves far and wide searching for their friends.

A single, fair haired knight, who was trying to disentangle his plated leg from a peculiarly nasty brier bush, jumped and nearly toppled over in shock as the airborne explosive went off high above his head. Growling angrily and cursing the bush, he wrenched his leg free and began to jog as quickly as he could toward the general location of the beacon, oblivious to the long black vine still tangled in his amour and dragging behind him.

To the south and east, a woman with hair the color of night was standing on a large flat rock on a small hill, amber eyes casting a far reaching gaze over the forest, until the explosion and resulting flash caused her to turn her head over her shoulder. Staff leading, she turned her whole frame to face the flash, but waited and watched until the second explosions were over before shifting her body into the form of a large raven, and gliding her way to the higher hill

Deep in the trees to the west, a red headed rouge twisted to the sky at the sight, only registering a brief moment of surprise before going on the move, even before the second explosions had begun, a fiercely determined look upon her soft face as she bounded silently through the trees.

To the east, a man as dark and tall as the trees around him, stopped his slow determined pace to look to the sky, the bright yellow light throwing his severe features into sharp relief, before he causally and calmly switched directions and moved off towards the hill with the same slow pace.

In a small clearing to the west and south of the hill, a woman with hair as white as the moon itself, moved at a hurried pace, her long silver staff leading her every step. The loud explosion caused her to whirl on the spot, bringing the dragon adorned tip of her weapon to bare, before she relaxed her stance and studied the secondary blasts, carefully judging the trajectory before setting off, her pace considerably quickened.

Back upon the hill itself, the hound pressed his ears against his skull, blinking rapidly at the sudden light. Truly, elf-that-purred would get the attention of their pack, and every other pack from miles around. Hopefully only their pack would think to seek out the source of the explosion, and the others would do their best to avoid it.

"There now, if that doesn't do the trick, then nothing short of Maker intervention will." Elf-that-purred lowered his bow and grinned over at him.

He just blinked at him, having no better response in mind.

"Hey, it was a good idea." apparently his lack of response had offended elf-that-purred, but he was too tired and worried to care.

Whining softly, he lay back down beside mistress, resting his head back upon her abdomen, taking some small comfort at the fact that she already felt warmer under the blanket.

"Hey now, pooch, she'll be okay," elf-that-purred moved back to kneel at mistress's other side, his hand going to roughly rub the top of his head. "and you'll be okay too, Wynne will get here, work her magic, a couple of healing potions later, and we'll all be slaying darkspawn before the end of the week."

He just whined in response, the idea of more fighting was exhausting rather than comforting.

"You've done your part," elf-that-purred repeated, never stopping his hard strokes. "rest now, dear friend, I will watch over you both."

Perhaps it was the exhaustion speaking, but the mabari suddenly decided that he did indeed trust elf-that-purred, and for the first time since waking on the bloody battle field below, he relaxed. Letting himself enjoy the warmth of his mistress under him, and the rough hand rubbing against his short fur, he began to feel sleep close slowly over him.


	2. The desperate and the bold

2. The desperate and the bold.

His doze didn't last very long, at least he didn't think it did,-it was getting so hard to tell anything anymore,- for footsteps from the trail roused his attention again.

He wasn't alone anymore, but he still had a duty and he managed to lift his head and pull his lips back, even as elf-that-purred brought his bow back up, pointing it the way they had both come. These footfalls had no hesitation, and they rushed ever on, closer and closer.

A figure forced it's way through the brush in the same manner the last had, and she came to just a sudden stop as the last. Lady-that-sung stared down at them, her pure determination fading into one of simultaneous relief and worry. It struck him as amusing how near totally she had repeated the same motions as elf-that-purred.

"Leliana!" Elf-that-purred quickly lowered his weapon and sighed slowly.

"Zeverna! You found them!" Lady-that-sung was quickly at their sides, her wide eyes passing over elf-that-purred and settling first on mistress and then on himself. "My poor, dear grey warden," her hands found their way to mistress's face, stroking her thumbs against the gaunt cheeks. "Makers breath, how badly were you hurt?" her voice had become a whisper, her eyes trailing from the wound on her face, to his own hurt frame.

"Badly," elf-that-purred sounded somewhat grim, but he pulled off a mild grin. "but the pooch here took real good care of her, went for a walk, then cleaned the good lady up. If her amour is any indication, she was fairly coated in blood."

Lady-that-sung rested one hand upon mistress's shoulder, and the other reached out to gently stroke between his eyes. "Such a brave warrior you are, noble hound," she said, looking him right in the eyes. "to withstand such trials, and bring you both safely through this."

He let out a long sigh and resumed his resting position. Mistress's breathing was still shallow under him, but her pack was coming together, it would be alright.

He listened with half an ear to the talk between the two, knowing that both of them wanted to wait for soft-voiced-lady, who would heal mistress before any more action would be taken.

"He carried her all the way here." elf-that-purred commented.

"I can see that," Lady-that-sung replied without any trace of sting. "brave and noble, more worthy warriors of song you'd be hard pressed to find…"

"… what do you know of the others?" elf-that-purred asked.

"I haven't seen any one else since we spilt up in the clearing…"

"Damn… how did you get here so quickly?"

"I ran."

"Funny but-"

"How did you find them?"

"Found the trail."

"There wasn't one, we all looked…"

Elf-that-purred chuckled again, and he felt the rough hand accompany Lady-that-sung's soft strokes atop his head.

"Not for a ways, no. You wouldn't think it, but this big brute is pretty good at hiding his trail, wasn't until I hit the deer path the second time that I found any trace of them."

Through half-lidded eyes, he saw the dark hand reach down for mistress's dagger, presenting the pommel to lady-that-sung almost as though it was some kind of sacred object.

"Ran across this, and it gave me enough of a clue to start looking in all the right places."

The two went silent, but their hands continued their affectionate stoking of his head.

"Damn good dog." Elf-that-purred commented.

"Greatest dog that ever lived." Lady-that-sung corrected vehemently.

Again, the clearing lapsed into silence, each lost to their own thoughts and worries, but the night had been stirred into action, and their quiet reprieve was quickly ended.

A loud barking 'caw' and the beating of wings from overhead drew all their gazes back to the sky, three pairs of eyes following the strange black shape that blotted out the glittering stars as it circled downward.

He was reminded of the crow from earlier and of the comparative to dragon-eyed-lady, but this thing was larger. A raven, he guessed.

Quite a strange irony it was when the raven swooped close to them, beat it's wings back a couple of times, then, in a glare of white light, morphed back into the very woman he had initially compared it too.

Dragon-eyed-lady stared down placidly at them, the perfect contrast to the previous two intruders upon this valley. She seemed neither particularly glad to see any of them, nor particularly worried over the bloodied state of him or mistress. Looks didn't tell the whole story, he knew, and thanks to the brief wind her own wings had created, he caught the faint smell of both apprehension and relief, a sort of sticky sweet mix that clung to his nose.

"So, our esteemed leader and her mongrel are finally found," dragon-eyed-lady always spoke as if she was somewhat exasperated about something, and this night was no different. "bloodied, battered, and beaten as always. 'Tis truly a wonder we do as well as we do in this forgone quest."

"And it is always a joy to have your company with us in our most desperate moments, Morrigan." Lady-that-sung practically growled, the hand resting on mistress's arm balling into a fist.

"I should think so," Dragon-eyed lady replied, unfazed, as she strode slowly around to stand at the same side of mistress he lay upon. "as it is often my talents that get us all out of the messes our grey warden here gets us into."

"How about now then, eh?" Elf-that-purred clipped his syllables just slightly. "would you care to use a few talents to help out our extremely hurt leader? Or at the very least, her faithful hound? Who took her away from the hungry mouths we saw fit to do away with earlier?"

He twisted his head back around to look up at the face of dragon-eyed-lady, she had a dangerous little grin upon her dark lips, and an irritated glint in her eyes, he got the impression that she had emotional turmoil during this night, and the prodding of elf-that-purred wasn't doing her temperament any good.

"If I wanted to set them on fire, give them horrid nightmares, or even blow them up, that would be a wonderful suggestion." her dangerous look slipped into a wary one and she glanced about the clearing. "my powers are better at destruction. You know that, elf."

Turning his head back around, he could see that both elf-that-purred and lady-who-sung were about to reply with sting in their words, but he gave them both a short bark, quelling any further arguments. It was the sort of thing mistress would've done, in-fighting in the pack served no one but their enemies, and if ever they shared a common goal, it was here and now in the darkest gloom of night. They needed each other.

Dragon-eyed-lady seemed content to stand behind him, leaning on her staff and ever watchful of everything around them, and both elf-that-purred and lady-who-sung bent their heads back to mistress, easily letting go of whatever qualms they had with the witch.

A high yelp from the woods made them all jump, and the following crashing and crunching of brush and tree branches made all three of the watchful two legs tense up and reach for their weapons. But unlike the last few times, he knew exactly who was approaching, and also knew the man was probably less of a threat to them than the multiple night creatures in the woods all around them.

"Ow ow ow, damn forest, cursed darkspawn,-" the cursing preceded the man into the clearing by nearly a minute, and by the time the heavy plate laden figure stumbled off the deer path and free of the brush, they were all resting in undisturbed postures again.

"Lovely, the idiot in shining armor has been found," Dragon-eyed-lady was always quick with an insult to this particular pack mate. "I was beginning to wonder if we'd have to go off searching for the other grey warden after just loosing track of our first one."

Grey-tainted-man only gave the smirking dragon-eyed-lady the briefest of heated glares, before jogging up to them and dropping to his knees at mistress's feet. "Thank the maker," he sighed, reaching out and affectionately patting the other warden upon the knee. "I swear, elf," he went on with mock seriousness talking directly to his unaware comrade. "when you're back on your feet, I'm going to strangle you." he dropped his head in his hand and shook it. "running off by yourself, damn."

"She wasn't alone," Lady-that-sung interrupted grey-tainted-man's private berate quietly, pointedly running her hand back over his broad head. "and if it wasn't for his strength, she'd be dead."

Grey-tainted-man looked at him for the first time, then surprisingly laughed lightly. "Of course he did, he's mabari, he'd follow her to hell even if she told him to stay home. I'm the one who keeps saying how amazing, how amazing these hounds are, yet no one believes me."

"He carried her all the way here." elf-that-purred put it, sounding slightly in awe.

Grey-tainted-man nodded, placing a gauntleted hand on his neck and carefully rubbing around the many cuts and pained spots. "I believe it, he's probably smarter and definitely far more self sacrificing than many humans I've met." then he turned a mild glare to dragon-eyed-lady.

"What in the name of all Ferldan is that poisonous look for? I did not discredit anything the mongrel did or did not do. I have not, in fact, said anything about him at all." Dragon-eyed-lady sounded highly irritated, apparently she enjoyed bothering grey-tainted-man to no end, but didn't appreciated the returned negativity if it didn't seem warranted.

"Oh, it's not that at all, it's just that I find it a sad irony that I find a greater range of human emotion in a dog the size of a small pony than I have ever been able to find in you, Morrigan."

He could actually feel dragon-eyed-lady stiffen behind him, the very air around her grew colder.

"You, know what? I take that back, what's really sad is that the only emotions you are capable of showing, to any other human, and- I don't know,- maybe even feeling, are those of contempt, disinterest, and selfishness, where as the hound here is only capable of compassion, loyalty, and undying love." grey-tainted-man bared his teeth up at the dark woman. "Tell me, Morrigan, do you even have a heart under that breast of yours? Or did your mother take it out and eat it while you weren't looking?"

The hound understood that grey-tainted-man was really only using his dislike for dragon-eyed-lady as an excuse to vent his troubled feelings, but it did worry him that there was such conviction in his tone. This was the sort of thing that destroyed a pack, the kind of in-fighting that their enemies tried to plant in them to break up their strength. Unfortunate it was that only he and mistress truly understood that, she still in danger of death, and he without words to speak.

Dragon-eyed-lady took a step closer to them, the air around her swirling with a dark energy he could practically taste, he only had to move his head on mistress's belly slightly to get a full view of dragon-eyed-lady. He had never seen a more frightening look upon her face, yet she smiled in an unholy anger.

"Perhaps I took it out and did away with it myself, since the trivial emotions you name only serve to weaken the greatest warriors. You would be a fine enough example of such, if you weren't already such an idiot. So I'll just use our downed leader here as an example instead-"

"Don't you dare!" grey-tainted-man interrupted, jumping to his feet with a swiftness that didn't seem possible. "don't you even dare, she's been there for you more times than anyone in your life has been , probably more times than you even deserve, and she's never even hinted that she's needed anything in return. Don't even give me any of your bullshit! In her hour of need the least you can do is show some respect!"

The darkness in the air condensed, tightening painfully, as the anger between the two grew stronger. The magic of dragon-eye-lady,-the same kind of energy that a fire would emanate,- was the kind that one would only have to stand too close to to get burnt.

He was far to close to dragon-eyed-lady, and his body was already in pain.

The darkness accidentally lashed his broken foot, he yelped hard and tried desperately not to jerk against mistress's hurt frame, even as agony lashed though his paw. Whimpering and shaking, he twitched, almost wishing that one or the other of the fighting two hadn't shown up.

"Stop it!" Lady-that-sung suddenly yelled, throwing glares with equal heat to both guilty parties. "These two have been through hell tonight, they don't need the pair of you squabbling over petty differences while they lie here dying!"

No one bothered to point out that so long as they could be healed before the night was through, they would probably be fine, mostly because the point was still a strong one.

"What would the warden say to us if she saw us fighting like this?" the question seemed directed more at grey-tainted-man.

Grey-tainted-man's head bowed in sudden shame, his gaze falling over him as he still lay shivering next to mistress, then slowly lowered himself back onto one knee, saddened eyes sweeping over the two of them. "She'd, she'd tell us to stop acting like children, that we're all a team, despite our differences,"

"Then she'd say that we aren't hampered by our differences, but greatened because of them." elf-that-purred continued, nodding slightly.

Behind him, dragon-eyed-lady sighed and stepped back, the darkened air slowly draining away. "And then she'd probably regale us with a tale of how her clan's Keeper would have dealt with us, something about tying our wrists together for a full day. Then something about the moral of team work, or some such thing."

Lady-that-sung nodded, looking over them all. "The greatest thing we can do for her is to always remember what she tries to teach us as she leads us to our destinies. We might all feel differently about her, but I do know that we all trust her, she's earned that trust many times over, and I say that trust for her actions should extend to her words."

"Well spoken, Lelianna," a new voice joined the crowd, smooth and calming like water over rocks. "I couldn't have said it any better myself."

Soft-voiced-lady gracefully parted her way into the clearing, and her appearance did much to bring relief to all present, the moonlight shining off her silver staff and pure white hair in much the same way he had seen in the tapestries of the chantry, a blessed sight to see.

"Wynne, oh thank the Maker." Lady-that-sung sighed, getting quickly to her feet to leave room for soft-voiced-lady at mistress's side.

"You have no idea how glad we are to see you." Grey-tinted-man said with great earnestness, and he couldn't have agreed more.

"I can imagine, young Alistair," soft-voiced-lady did not hesitate as she took the place of lady-that-sung, and quickly reached her hands up to examine the cut upon mistress's forehead. "I came as swiftly as I could, following that rather ingenious beacon, who thought of that?" she asked the question without looking up, running her long fingers through mistress's tangled hair, looking for more injuries under the thick layers.

"I did," elf-that-purred answered without a hint of gloating pride, just a solemn honesty. "just a little something I picked up on one of my many adventures, figured it might do the trick, and it did, eh pooch?"

It was the first time in a while someone had directly spoken to him, and he was dismayed to realize he barely had enough energy to whine a low response.

"My goodness, you poor thing," soft-voiced-lady was talking to him now, her eyes trailing along the many long injures half hidden under his blood encrusted coat. "did anyone try to take a look at your hurts yet?"

Touched as he was at her concern, he would much rather she focus on mistress first, and he tried to demonstrate that by burying his head further down into the elf's belly.

"As concerned for her as ever, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to move, faithful hound. I need to check her over and find what needs healing first."

Without hesitation, he slipped his head off her body and half rolled, half crawled a few inches away from her prone form, giving soft-voiced-lady space to examine mistress.

"Good boy." her hands reached out for the edge of the blanket and carefully rolled it back.

Collectively, everyone in the clearing -apart from himself and elf-that-purred, the only two who had seen the extent of the damage- gasped. Lady-that-sung bit her lower lip and looked away, he could see lines of water under her eyes, grey-tainted-man recoiled slightly and swore, looking as if he might be sick. Behind him, dragon-eyed-lady shook her head and tapped her fingers uncomfortably against her staff, jaw tightening.

For her part, soft-voiced-lady took a moment to close her eyes and shudder very slightly. "By Andraste's life and breath, what horrors you both have endured." her moment was over quickly and her skilled healers hands began to run over the elf, seeking out the worst of the wounds. "Broken ribs, bleeding inside no doubt…" she was only talking to herself, but everyone in the clearing hung on her every word.

"Perchance would one of you be so kind as to help me?" her voice raised and she spoke to all, without ever taking her eyes off her charge.

He got the strange feeling that most of them would have been willing to face a troupe of darkspawn by themselves if she said it would help, perhaps that was just because it was something he'd be willing to do, even as hurt as he was.

"We'd be poor companions if we let her loyal hound continue to suffer, after all he has done to bring her to safety, and it doesn't look like anyone has taken a look at him yet, could someone…?"

The sentence wasn't even finished before he felt the hand of grey-tainted-man reaching out for his skull, and lady-that-sung walked around mistress to come to his side, he even felt dragon-eyed-lady kneel at his back.

"Poor boy, we've been terrible friends haven't we? Just so worried about your master that we didn't even think of your hurts. Don't worry boy, we'll fix you up." grey-tainted man moved closer to him and began to carefully run his heavy hands through his coat, forcing dried flakes of blood to fall loose.

Lady-that-sung was at his back legs and had carefully taken his broken paw in her hands, running her fingers lightly over it to feel the extent of the break, murmuring soft comforts to him as she did.

It felt like cold water was being run over his back, reaching into his wounds and easing the sting with pleasant numbness. He realized after a moment that it was indeed water, dragon-eyed-lady ran her hand a few inches over his body, a strange glowing spell passing between her hand and his flesh as she did so.

None of them could do anything to heal the wounds, but his skin loosened under grey-tainted-man's rough strokes, the hard gauntlet doing much to get rid of the dried blood and loosen his clumped fur. The warmth from the bare hands of lady-that-sung did much to bring back the greatly needed warmth in the mangled limb. And while the spell of dragon-eyed-lady was usually much more effective in freezing opponents solid in their tracks, her careful application very easily numbed much of the lingering sting in the deep gashes.

Elf-that-purred had taken a watchful position not far off, his dark eyes keeping vigil for them all.

He let out a long sigh and let himself relax lower to the ground. Perhaps they were really only helping him so much because it was easier for them to have something to do, rather than to stand uselessly by, but perhaps they had some kind of newfound respect for him, now that they had seen just how hard he had fought to keep their grey warden safe. The thought gave him a small amount of comfort.

A glittering light from mistress's position made him lift his head back up, and his caretakers all paused to watch the same scene. Soft-voiced-lady had one hand upon her staff and the other hovering just above mistress's chest. Eyes closed, she chanted soft slow words, both hands glowing a pure white.

Amazedly, he watched the effect of the spell unfold as places in mistress's chest moved, the drake-scale amour rising in places were there had just been a shallow dip, the bones under her skin refitting and knitting together again. Soft-voiced-lady slowly lifted her hand higher, and mistress's chest followed.

The elf inhaled a long, deep breath, -the first one she had been able to breathe all night- then let it out slowly, the next inhale came easily and surely. The deep gashes still adorned every limb, and he could still smell the blood under her amour, but she was no longer gulping down shallow gasps, her forehead already had lessened it's lines of pain.

"Wynne, you are a miracle worker, you are." grey-tainted-man sighed.

Soft-voiced-lady chuckled lowly. "Hardly, Alistair, it's not something that only the greatest mages can perform, any circle mage worth her salt knows how to heal. I've just had enough years of doing it to know where to start, it's a skill that can often determine how long the patient is in your care."

He whined slightly, tapping his short tail as he watched mistress breath easier.

Apparently picking up on his anxiety, lady-that-sung asked with the emotion in her tone. "but will she be alright?"

Soft-voiced-lady leaned back upon her folded legs, and nodded slightly, brows furrowed in thought. "As long as I can study her body completely to see if there are any wounds even slightly as bad as the ones I just healed, and she can get plenty of rest, yes. She's not quite out of danger yet," soft-voiced-lady added quickly, as though she intended to keep everyone alert. "I need to get her out of the amour to get to her other injures, and she has lost a lot of blood."

"Then what are you waiting for, exactly?" Dragon-eyed-lady was resting one hand against his back, for support he guessed, as she leaned over him to speak to the older human. "An invitation? She's not going to wake up long enough to give you permission to undress her, I doubt she will mind about modesty if she dies for fear of privacy."

Soft-voiced-lady frowned over at her. "For the first time since I met you, Morrigan, I find myself agreeing with you, however," she lifted a hand before the witch could shoot back a reply. "I will not risk greater infection here, and while magic can heal most everything, I find clean bandages can still make things progress much faster." she looked back down at mistress. "We will need to move her back to camp."

There was a short pause, in which elf-that-purred moved back to their knot.

"Can we do that? I mean, the hound took her all the way here, but can we move her now without hurting her more?" he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

Soft-voiced-lady nodded again. "I believe so, I have healed the broken ribs and most of the internal damage, so long as we are careful, we can take her back without any difficulty."

"Good."

The single word made everyone jump, the deep tone it was spoken in was familiar enough, but the owners proximity hadn't been noticed.

Man-of-bronze-skin easily jumped down from the shallow hill on their left, his bulk somehow making the valley feel even smaller.

"Then let us waste no more time in taking the warden back to safety." as clipped and to the point as ever, he either didn't notice or outright ignored the varying looks from his fellow two legs.

The pack was here, they had been found, he and mistress. And they had come, all of them rushing to their sides, and each doing their own part to help. He felt such a great swelling of pride at the fact, he may have chosen a less dire situation for the confirmation, but now he would forever know, they were truly a pack. Let all their enemies tremble in fear, together they would cut a swath in the enemy ranks the likes of which had yet to be seen. Mistress was alpha, and in her need, in her silence, they realized they could still stand strong and powerful together.

He knew it was a lesson none of the two legs would ever really forget.

"Damn Sten, give a man some warning before you go creeping out of the shadows like that, you could make someone die of fright alone." Grey-tainted-man sighed.

"And had I been darkspawn, I would have done much more than startle you to ensure your end. It is not my concern that you were not as watchful as you should have been." man-of-bronze skin walked up to stand next to elf-that-purred, towering over him in much the same way as a mountain to a tree. "but your lack of observation doesn't concern me, not now." the giant looked from mistress to soft-voiced-lady. "Wynne, you are certain she should be taken back to camp?"

Soft-voiced-lady began to pull the blanket back over mistress's prone form, doing her best to tuck in all the edges. "Yes I am, I'm afraid that I do not have any lithreum potions with me, or any other such supplies, and I will need our stores to do this healing properly."

Man-of-bronze-skin grunted. "I suppose no one else thought to take supplies with them when we set off? No healing potions, of any kind?"

Only the uncomfortable shifting of feet answered him.

"Well, we just took off so suddenly, and after we found the clearing… didn't even think of going back really…" Grey-tainted-man mumbled for them all.

He found it somewhat amusing that the pack had all forgotten of the energy giving drinks, the bitter red kind that sent fire through the limbs and eased the pain of wounds, helping them to heal faster, though not instantly.

"Then it is a good thing the warden was located in time, for it seems that without her, we are incapable of even sorting out our supplies for our quests." man-of-bronze-skin said dryly, and no one dared to question whether the statement extended to himself as well. "but enough of this, let us be on our way."

Without any word of protest from the others, man-of-bronze-skin knelt down next to soft-voiced-lady and very carefully slid his broad arms under mistress's much smaller body, lifting her to his chest as though her weight was nothing to him. He rose, mistress's head lying limply against the hard metal plate of his breastplate, and the other rose with him.

All except lady-who-sung, who still cradled his broken paw.

"Wynne," she said softly, then gestured to his injury with her other hand. "Do you have enough energy left to heal this? It's the least we can do for him here."

Soft-voiced-lady moved to stand over lady-who-sung, her wise eyes carefully studying his paw. "Yes, but I'm afraid it will hurt."

He grunted slightly. Everything hurt, it would just be nice to be able to walk properly.

Soft-voiced-lady chuckled. "Very well, then." and she reach her hand down as it began to glow.

It did hurt, and he yelped out in startled surprise at how much it hurt, kicking his front legs against the ground, clawing long lines in the soil as the bones shifted back into position, the ligaments reconnected, and the skin sealed over. But the moment was over quickly and then his foot was let back down on the ground, sore, but otherwise healed.

No need to be lying around anymore, the pack was taking mistress to safety, and he would not be idle, despite his exhausted state. He hauled himself up without a second thought, and was grateful that the shaking in his legs wasn't as bad as he thought it might be.

He woofed, then, stumbling slightly, made his way up to man-of-bronze-skin, as close as he could be to mistress.

Ever respectful, man-of-bronze-skin nodded down at him and pressed his shoulder into the brush, forcing it aside in a way that spared mistress further harm, and stepping back upon the deer trail, himself right behind, and the others falling in step along the path.

Somehow, the walk back to the clearing felt shorter than the walk away from it had, perhaps because mistress's weight was no longer slowing him down, or maybe because now he knew exactly where he was going and how far it was, or maybe it was as simple as the fact that walking downhill was always easier than treading up. Though in the end, it didn't matter how much shorter the walk felt, he couldn't make it all the way.

If it was possible for his mind to grasp the concept, he might have cursed himself for his weakness, for his worn and cold body, for having come so far only to falter at the end, but that kind of thinking was not natural to a mabari, and so all he registered was that the others of his pack had easily overtaken him in the places where the deer trail widened, and mistress was being borne further and further from him.

They hadn't even reached the bottom of the hill yet, and all the pack had surpassed him, taking no notice of the fact as lost in their own heads as they were. His paw was no longer broken, but still throbbed with every step he took, the pads of each foot tender on the unyielding ground, and the numbing spell of dragon-eyed-lady was fading away, reminding him all too well of his own wounds and blood loss.

His head hung low to the ground and his breath came harder and shorter with every moment, he might as well been beating upon drums for how loudly he was breathing.

They passed through the break in the trees he had stopped at earlier in the night to gaze over the valley, and he came to a shuddering, final halt. With the moonlight streaming down upon him, he let out a despairingly soft sound somewhere between a whine and a howl, and then slumped to the earth, his legs refusing to take him any further.

So close, yet so far, but mistress was going to be safe, and that was all that counted, he was content, even if the pack didn't notice his absence at their heels, he was certain that they would take care of her. It was all he had ever wanted.

He could still see them all, ahead and below him, trudging their way onwards. Until man-of-bronze-skin came to such a sudden halt that grey-tainted-man nearly collided with him. Ignoring the mild protests from the shorter human, he turned his great bulk around and stared directly up at the downed hound, it was as though he had, felt, the mabari's plight.

The others in the pack followed his gaze, and though their expressions at his depleted state varied from one to another, their silence seemed to grow even grimmer.

Before a single one of them could utter a question, a proposal or even a complaint, man-of-bronze-skin turned to grey-tainted-man with the same grimly serious look he always had and said in the familiar toneless manner. "You consider yourself a strong man, do you not, Alistair?"

Taken aback, grey-tainted-man gaped at man-of-bronze-skin for a moment, looking completely clueless. "Well, yes, I suppose…" then glanced back up at the semi-conscious hound. A look of dawning horror crossed his features, and he looked back to man-of-bronze-skin a protest already forming on his lips, to find the giant man was gently, but firmly pressing mistress's limp body into his arms.

Again, either not noticing or outright ignoring the questioning stares he got from the others as grey-tainted-man fumbled slightly with his new load, man-of-bronze-skin walked back up the hill and knelt at his side.

He shifted his head along the ground so that he could look up into the severe face, he found that as usual, he could not read the look either upon the square face, nor in the dark eyes. But the man left no guessing involved as he placed one hand upon his head. "You are a true warrior, and worthy of respect."

Without so much as a grunt to indicate any discomfort at the heavy load, man-of-bronze-skin slipped his arms under his back legs and abdomen and under his front legs and ribcage, then lifted his whole body clear of the ground in one smooth motion.

The looks of shock upon the faces of the rest of the pack quite mirrored his own feelings, at best he would've thought that one of them might have stayed with him until he regained his strength or perished. But it seemed man-of-bronze-skin truly meant what he had said, and was going to keep him close to mistress. Had he the energy, he would have given the man one of his rare wet kisses, he hoped a short wag of his tail was enough to tell the man of his thanks.

"We are already bearing one wounded comrade safely off this mountain, it would be cowardly and dishonorable to leave behind another." was the only answer man-of-bronze-skin offered the others before taking the both of them back down the trail.

He had to admit that he wasn't all together comfortable, at least not more so than he had been all night, but he accepted the odd posture with a deep gratitude, man-of-bronze-skin considered him an important part of the pack, not just mistress's hound. A great pride grew warmly within his chest, and though the others gave both him and man-of-bronze-skin odd looks as they passed by on the trail, he couldn't help but feel a deep affection for them all, each in a different way, but still present.

Grey-tainted-man stood with a startled look still upon his face, holding mistress and the rough blanket covering her close to his chest, and as man-of-bronze-skin walked by, he extended his head just slightly and gave her a short lick on the forehead.

"Well, er, on we go then!" Grey-tainted-man said from behind them, and half a second later, he heard the resumed footsteps of the others.

Somehow the pace of man-of-bronze skin was rhythmically soothing, and before he knew it, he was sliding back into the black oblivion of sleep, content in the knowledge that the whole pack was heading back to their temporary home.


	3. The Healed and the Harried

3. The Healed and the Harried

He wasn't sure how long he had really been asleep, but knew it couldn't have been too long, for he awoke to the sound of soft-voiced-lady giving out orders in a short tone that still some how sounded more suggesting than commanding. He could feel that he was still being carried but had no idea where they were, and when he opened his eyes to spot the dwindling light of their campfire just a few yards ahead, he wagged his short tail happily.

They had made it.

The broad path allowed the pack to spread out in a fanned formation, grey-tainted-man walking nearly side-by-side with bronze-skinned-man and the others mostly centering themselves around him. Soft-voiced-lady walked a few paces ahead of the others, her eyes mostly fixated upon her own white tent, though they occasionally came around to land on one of the others and issue another order of business.

"Alistair, take her right to my tent, her exposed bedroll wouldn't be much better than the ground on that hill," he really couldn't recall when he had seen the older human look so determined.

"That and the lady is entitled to her privacy, despite Morrgan's arguments to the contrary." Elf-that-purred muttered to the right and behind grey-tainted-man.

Though he couldn't see dragon-eyed-lady he could imagine the glare that she wore.

"I only suggested that, _elf_, when it seemed that her life was still in the balance. Not that I'd imagine you'd have much of an argument against seeing her undressed."

"Most of my healing supplies are also in my tent." Soft-voiced-lady smoothly cut in before any more could be said by any member of the party, though even from his limited perch, he could see more than one dark look thrown about.

They were in the campsite now, and man-of-bronze-skin moved right to the dieing fireside, soft-voiced-lady moving right past it with grey-tainted-man close in tow, he watched as she ducked into her circular tent and held the flap open so that he could take his burden through the door without trouble.

Man-of-bronze-skin slowly knelt low to the ground and carefully lowered his weight to the ground. Never taking his eyes from the tent just ahead of him, he assisted his carrier by bringing his body back over his paws so that they held his weight and man-of-bronze-skin could pull his arms out from under his body with ease.

Once the man had withdrawn his arms fully, he dropped heavily to his stomach, still too tired to hold his own weight. He lay now closer to the fire than he normally did but, was still fairly close to mistress's open bedroll, which lay exposed to the sky not ten paces to his right.

Once questioned about her odd sleeping arrangement by grey-tainted-man, lady-who-sung, and elf-that-purred simultaneously, she had laughed and shook her head, explaining to them the limited space in her clan's landships, and that those not loaded with supplies were reserved for the very young, the very old, or those who were injured.

When prodded a bit further by grey-tainted-man's curiosity, she had then explained that her clan's tents were reserved for the months when most needed, in the rains and snow. The tents were hardy, like everything else they made, but were hard to replace, and didn't take down very swiftly. She had then shrugged and casually stated that it was important for the clan to be able pack up and flee quickly, least whatever human settlement nearby decided that they were a threat. The two humans looked away in shame at the reply and elf-that-purred went back to cleaning his blade, an unreadable look in his eyes.

He sighed slightly at the memory and hoped other moments like that one wouldn't be too far off in the future.

There were a few moments in the camp spent mostly in silence, all of them trying to hear the mumbled conversation going on inside the mages' tent, all standing awkwardly and unsurely around the fire, shifting their weight as if they didn't quite know where to stand.

Man-of-bronze-skin moved away from his kneeling position at his back and began stoically rousing the fire, bringing the fading embers back into the roaring blaze they were all accustomed to.

The rustling of the tent flap brought every eye back upon the tent of interest as grey-tainted-man strode out closely followed by soft-voiced-lady, the former looked as nervous and uneasy as the others around fire as he took a position next to dragon-eye-lady, the latter still looked calmly determined as she stopped and surveyed them all with a critical eye.

"I probably should have asked this question a long time ago, if just for prudence sake, but who here has any kind of medical skill?" she held up a hand to forestall any quick volunteers, "and I mean a moderately advance knowledge, not the basic 'throw down a healing potion and slap a bandage on' battlefield kind."

Well that left him out for sure, he had already licked the wounds he could see as clean as he could, and beyond that, there was less than nothing he could do. And judging from the looks of the others around the fire, their thoughts were much the same.

"I'm, much better at dispelling spells, not augmenting them…" Grey-tainted-man mumbled quietly, as if he was just saying something so that something was said.

Dragon-eye-lady merely waved one hand dismissively, not even looking at soft-voice-lady, probably thinking that no one was really asking her anyway.

elf-that-purred shrugged and said. "I stab people in the back with pointy things, that's about it."

To which grey-tainted-muttered. "Double entendre there."

A leering grin broke across a worried elven face. "Indeed."

Man-of-bronze-skin shook his head once.

Soft-voiced-lady was beginning to look exasperated and she quickly turned her gaze on lady-who-sung. "Leliana, in your many different areas of study as bard, I'd hope you might have at least a bit more knowledge that the rest here."

Lady-who-sung stood a little straighter, and her worried look melted into one much like that of soft-voiced-lady. "A little, yes. Not anything largely impressive by any standard, but it was a subject of study."

"Good, then you will assistance me." Soft-voiced-lady said with a tone that brokered no argument, though, judging by the look on the face of lady-that-sung, she wouldn't have gotten one.

The two woman disappeared into the tent, once again leaving the others to stand uselessly around the fire, after a few moments of the rapidly extending silence, he let out a long sigh and shifted his position, enjoying the heat of the fire after such a long night of cold. Wishing that he could be alongside his mistress, but knowing he would only be in the way.

Grey-tainted-man started slightly at the sound, then looked with dismay over at him. "Poor boy, we forgot all about you again didn't we?" he started over to him then paused, catching the eye of man-of-bronze-skin. "Well, everyone but Sten, obviously." now standing above him, grey-tainted-man looked down at him with scrutiny. "Let's… let's get you clean first, then we can see the damage properly." he knelt and gripped up one of the many buckets lying near the fire, dropping one hand on his head as he did so. "I'll be right back, my friend." Then he headed off to the shallow pool of spring water.

Across the fire, dragon-eyed-lady blew out a long breath. "Well, this has been an eventful night, but now that all the fuss is over, I think I shall retire to bed."

"Perfect timing it is, yes? Now you will be able to sleep all day and prowl at night in those shadows you are so fond of." Elf-that-purred said with a cheerful air.

The only reply the ex-crow got was the soft crunch off fading footfalls. Apparently, he mused, she was too tired to engage in any of her favorite tormenting games, but something elf-that-purred had said struck him and he lifted his head to the sky, staring off to the east.

The faintest edge of pink was creeping it's way over the horizon and reaching it fingers up into the deep black of night, signaling the beginning of the end of this years-long night.

Dawn was approaching, and as grey-tainted-man returned with a pail full of water, taking off his gauntlets and beginning to carefully clean the blood from his body, he closed his eyes and this time, really and truly relaxed.

He had done his duty well this night.

The moments that followed were mostly lost to him, merely scattered pieces in between blissful sleep. Most were gained when those tending his wounds slipped or became careless and he was jerked awake from the pain, but as the sun climbed higher over their camp, his own mind roused him more than once. Whenever lady-that-sung emerged from the tent to fetch more water, the others watching her every move and grey-tainted-man throwing her questions every step of the way,-to which her grimly determined look was his only reply,- and whenever there was any sound of particular interest. At one point, with the sun hovering almost cautiously over the edge of the forest, he awoke to find a irritated dragon-eyed-lady shoving a shallow pan filled with red medical potion under his nose. Somewhat suspicions, he gave the pan a careful sniff before indulging himself on the bitter, but soothing, drink.

"See? It is not so bad," came the voice of elf-that-purred somewhere behind the still glowering form of dragon-eyed-lady. "Everyone has had their turn at helping out the hound, now it's your turn And look, you aren't even bursting into flames for performing this one small act of kindness."

"I am only doing this because you refused to leave me to my sleep. I do not even like the mutt." was her curt response over her shoulder.

A chuckle, then. "I am surprised you did not set me ablaze or turn me into some small unpleasant animal."

The liquid in the pan was becoming shallow, and she tilted it just slightly so the liquid condensed in the corner nearest him, he had full witness to the evil smirk upon her face as she hissed out her retort. "Had I any energy left, you can be assured that I would have done so. In fact, once I do finally get the rest I so richly deserve, I will endeavor to fulfill that little statement of yours, though in what order, I shall have to ponder."

The pan's contents now comfortably emptied into his belly, she made a move to get up and walk away, and despite her insistence of her dislike from him, he gave her hand a gentle nuzzle. He barely registered the look of surprise across her face before fading into sleep again.

Fading in and out of fitful dozes and deep sleep, he was vaguely aware that the others in the pack were all taking their own turns between rest and watch duty, apparently having done as much healing to him as they could manage without magic.

He awoke again sometime later in the day, feeling mostly refreshed and in much improved health. His muscles were still sore from overuse and he still felt sluggish from blood loss, but the gashes along his side and back were sealed with salve and filled with a pleasant warm numbness. More importantly, he was hungry.

Getting tentatively to his feet, he was happily surprised to find that he now had enough strength to hold his own weight and probably to walk around a bit. But before he set off to get his food, he looked around camp to try and discern what the situation of the pack was.

The sun bathed camp was mostly silent, which wasn't such a surprise since everyone in sight was sound asleep. Over on the single log that was normally reserved as a bench during meal time lay grey-tainted-man, fast asleep, his spine lying right against the wood. Given the awkward angle at which he lay, it was likely that he was supposed to be on watch.

Elf-that-purred was half curled into a ball on the edge of the tents, man-of-bronze-skin leaned against a thick tree, and he could barely make out the lump that was dragon-eyed-lady a ways off in her animal skin tent. As to the last members, he could still make out faint sounds coming from the only occupied tent in the half circle, though they somehow sounded some what less rushed, which made him only slightly less nervous at how long they had been in there.

He suppressed a sigh and moved over to mistress's bedroll, carefully rooting his thick nose along the multiple pockets in her travel bag, until he rolled it over and reached for the largest pocket on the side, dried meat strips stuffed inside that she kept just for him. Part of him wanted to gobble them all down in one go, as hungry as he was, but he resisted, mostly. Mainly because he enjoyed the moments when she treated him. As he carefully pulled out a few of the longer stripes, he suddenly noticed the long sword and the dagger lying atop the rough grey bedroll, whoever had been thoughtful enough to take the sword away from the battlefield had also cleaned it, and the dagger as well. They lay, a perfect pair, gleaming in the warm morning sun, as though nothing at all interesting had happened, and it felt good to have them back where they belonged.

Crunching down upon the soft meat, he heard just the faintest hint of a conversation drifting from the tent. Not bothering to stop chewing his food, he looked up at the tent, watching carefully for any sign of movement. There was just the slightest flutter of the tent flap, and he stopped moving entirely, staring hard.

Lady-who-sung wearily pushed her way through the flap, stumbling very slightly as she did so, dark circles etched deep under her eyes.

His head came up and he woofed, taking all the energy he could and quickly jogging towards her, gladdened to see the small tired grin flicking across her face.

On the log, grey-tainted-man jerked awake at his sound, drawing in a quick gasping inhale. "I'm awake, awake…"

Almost shakily, lady-who-sung knelt down and stroked the top of his head, scratching behind his ears. "Hello there my friend, you are looking much better today."

He wagged his tail and licked the back of one of her hands.

"Nhugg… what's… Leliana!" Grey-tainted-man tried to jump to his feet, only succeeding in slipping on the log and crashing down loudly upon the ground, his amour creating a huge clatter. He scrambled up again, even as the others all stirred from the newest commotion.

"How's she doing? Where's Wynne? You look terrible, are you alright? Did she wake up ever? Do you know when she might be back on her feet." each question burred into the next, and lady-who-sung looked up confusedly at grey-tainted-man with mist in her eyes.

"What's going on?" Elf-that-purred trotted up and asked groggily, swaying slightly on his feet.

"That's what I was just asking." Grey-tainted-man replied, breathlessly.

Lady-who-sung still gazed up at them, looking drained and slightly out of it. Seeing no response quickly forthcoming, he twisted his head up at the two men and growled slightly, there was no need for them to be harrying her, not in the state she was in, not so much unlike his own mere hours ago.

"Makers Breath," came another worn voice from the tent. "the lot of you are making enough racket to wake the dead." soft-voiced lady passed out of the tent and stood just behind lady-who-sung. "And no, before you ask, that wasn't in any kind of reference to the warden in question."

"Then how is the warden in question?" Bronze-skinned-man seemed to be the only one who wasn't suffering any grogginess from lack of sleep, walking up to them as if he hadn't just been lying sound asleep against a tree.

He looked around again, whining lowly as he gaze passed between the two human woman, wagging his tail anxiously.

Soft-voiced-lady smiled tiredly at the group, but it was a warm happy smile. "She will be fine, a few day's rest and some good food, and she'll be well on her way to saving Ferelden."

Grey-tainted-man whooped, punching his fist in the air, and rushing forward to enveloped soft-voiced lady in a bear hug. Elf-that-purred sighed and grinned slightly, and bronze-skinned-man merely nodded his approval.

"Oh, Wynne, you beautiful old miracle worker, what would we do without you?" grey-tainted-man had actually lifted the older woman a few inches off the ground, grinning the biggest grin his face could hold.

"Learn to wash your socks, I'd hope." gasped the mage from his shoulder, half-way throwing an arm around his back for balance.

Grey-tainted-man gently set Soft-voiced-lady down with a hearty laugh, then turned to look down at lady-who-sung, who managed a weak grin.

"And dear, sweet Leliana," he dropped to his knees and enveloped her in another great hug, "voice of an angel to go right along with that heart of yours."

Lady-who-sung laughed outright, her eyes shining at the compliment. "I can hardly take any credit Alistair, Wynne did all the work, I merely held things and layered on bandages."

"Do not sell yourself short, my dear, your help was invaluable and I would not have made as much progress as I did without your assistance." Soft-voiced-lady was quick to put in.

Lady-who-sung flushed a bit and ducked her head. "but let us not forget the true hero of the day," she said easily. "If not for our mabari friend, our leader would have been lost to us."

In the next second he found the great arms of grey-tainted-man thrown around his broad neck.

"Yes, indeed, the greatest follower of us all, we all owe you greatly, you big lunk you!"

The arms pressed painfully against his sealed wounds, but he bore it in good cheer, quite pleased that grey-tainted-man was himself so happy. Sometimes the man reminded him of the boys who had helped care for him and his litter, so full of life and good spirits. The other warden kept the lightness in every moment, making everything more bearable for the rest of the pack (with the possible exception of dragon-eyed-lady).

"Is he intoxicated?" he just barely caught the question of bronze-skinned-man over the continuing compliments of the clinging human.

"Just overly tired, I think. Or perhaps he might have eaten something that Morrigan set aside for my punishment." Elf-that-purred replied quietly, then in a louder tone, "When can we see her?"

Grey-tainted-man quieted instantly, even as soft-voiced-lady smiled and shook her head slightly.

"Not now I'm afraid. I'd like to keep her resting and not overtaxing herself, maybe sometime this evening, if she says she feels up to it."

"She has awoken then?" Bronze-skinned-man queried.

It was lady-who-sung answering. "Yes, but only in the last hour or so, and very briefly. Thank the Maker she did not come down with fever, or she may never have returned."

"Did she say anything about what happened?" was the next question from Elf-that-purred.

"No, nothing. She just, sort of choked out a few elvish words, and passed out again." Lady-who-sung shuddered slightly, "she sounded, haunted."

"Then we should leave her. Such a battle can leave a warrior unsettled," Bronze-skinned-man said with finality.

"And now that's settled, I think we should all get back to our own rest." Soft-voiced-lady laid a hand on the shoulder of lady-who-sung. "Go off to bed now dear, you've earned your sleep. I shall keep a close watch over her."

The pale blue eyes grew determined again, and lady-who-sung shook her head firmly. "No, you have put out more energy this night than I have, I shall keep close by her side. You rest, take my tent, I insist."

Elf-that-purred cleared his throat. "Or, one of us fine gentlemen can take first watch, letting you fine ladies both off for a good rest."

"Good point," Grey-tainted-man stood back up, looking serious again. "We've all had a rest ourselves, why don't you let one of us take-"

But lady-who-sung shook her head firmly. "No, I insist, these next hours are the ones to be concerned for, if there is anymore concern to be had, and I do have the most medical knowledge other than Wynne."

At the doubting looks of the others, she smiled weakly. "Do not worry, should I find myself unable to fight off sleep any longer, I shall come out and retrieve one of you."

He woofed, seeing an opportunity that he was quick to take advantage of. Lady-who-sung giggled slightly and ran a hand down his neck. "I have no doubt of your sincerity, but I do not think Wynne would take kindly to the idea of you staying in her tent, even if for a little while."

Oh, he knew how to easily solve that problem, this was the least obstacle that he had gone over in the last turn of a day for mistress. He looked right up into the face of soft-voiced-lady, widened his eyes and lowered his jaw so that his lips pouted just slightly, then whimpered once.

On his right, Grey-tainted-man chuckled and said. "Oh, that's just not fair."

"I agree," soft-voiced-lady tried and failed to stare down at him with a stern stare, then sighed. "taking advantage of a tired old lady who has not the heart to turn you away."

He wagged his tail hopefully, whining slightly.

Soft-voiced-lady sighed again and shook her head. "Oh, very well, but you must do your best to keep my tent from smelling like dog by the time you leave."

He woofed his thanks happily, though he had no idea how accomplish the one request she put before him. He didn't smell that bad, did he? Mistress and he slept close together every night and she had never complained.

"Thank you Wynne, and please make yourself comfortable in my tent, it's the least I can offer you." lady-who-sung patted him on the head one last time before getting to her feet.

"Thank you kindly, dear." Soft-voiced-lady smiled and moved to the tent just left of her own, ducking into it with a relived sigh.

"Well, now that's all settled, I think I'll go hunt some breakfast, or is it lunch yet?" Elf-that-purred threw a hand in the air, grinning slightly. "No matter, I'll shall return with fresh meat either way."

Grey-tainted-man looked seriously at lady-who-sung as the shorter elf walked off. "If you get too tired, you come on and find me, yea? I mean it, don't go pushing yourself too far, Leliana."

She returned to her tired smile. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I promise I will not go too long, I will not risk her safety over the petty matter of pride."

He felt caught in the middle of a suddenly awkward moment as the two stared at each other, reading something in the body language of the other. Grey-tainted-man only just noticing it for the first time, lady-who-sung carefully gauging it as she had in so many other moments. If he had to guess, it probably had something to do with mistress, and not in her current state, but in general.

The moment was over rather quickly, as the grin of grey-tainted-man returned and he nodded in approval. "Good then. If she wakes, give her my best." then he turned and practically pranced off in joy, humming a quick tune.

"Well then," lady-who-sung said to him, moving back towards mistress's current resting place. "Shall we?" she brought the tent flap aside and stepped in, holding it open so that he could easily walk in.

And there she was, a small frame covered up to her chin by a light brown blanket, red hair now carefully untangled by caring hands, and a long white bandage that covered up the length of the cut on her face. The lines of pain upon her forehead that had blurred the elegantly curving tattoos into a tangled mess were all but erased. She had never looked so wonderful to him as she did in that moment.

Without preamble, he moved to her side and lay down, careful not to make contact least he accidentally undo the work of the healers. Lady-who-sung moved to her other side and knelt, her smile warm and caring.

"She looks so beautiful when she sleeps, no?" she said quietly, reaching out a hand to stroke a stand of hair away from the pale face. "So peaceful. I hardly ever see that look on her face…"

He grunted slightly in agreement, merely happy to be back at her side were he belonged.

The two sat in absolute silence, just watching the unlabored rise and fall of her chest.

Well, it was silent in the tent, outside was another story.

"Hey Morrigan!" They could hear grey-tainted-man nearly bellow somewhere nort west of their position. "She's going to be fine now! Isn't that just wonderful?" a pause then. "Hey, are you even awake, witch?"

There was a shrill cry of frustration. "Leave me be, you horrid little man! Leave me to my sleep least I decide to turn you into a pathetic little mouse and feed you to that impossible mutt!" dragon-eyed-lady practically shrieked out in response.

"She's going to be fine!" he yelled out again, clearing enjoying tormenting the already frazzled witch far too much. "I just thought you'd like to know that, since you're such a caring person, and-" his sentence was cut of with a yelp that nearly mirrored his own and the sizzling crack of a fire spell.

Quickly retreating steps and a few choice expletives were the next sounds they heard, and then a fairly loudly shouted threat. "The very next buffoon to come within ten paces of my tent will meet a very unpleasant end indeed."

Lady-who-sung chuckled slightly. "Such a very odd family we find ourselves a part of."

"You can say that again, what's with all the ruckus?"

The voice, as horse and cracked though it was, was better than the greatest songbirds tune anywhere in the world, and he nearly jumped to his feet in joy.

Mistress's forehead furrowed slightly before she opened her eyes, the wonderfully strange slant to them that was a part of her elf heritage-as well as the piercing blue hue-as great a sight as any he had seen in a long time. She blinked in the dim sunlight the tent let through then groaned softly.

"Teardra, you have no idea how wonderful it is to you awake." Lady-who-sung addressed mistress using her given name, her voice full of relief, a smile stretched across her face.

"Mmmm, I get the feeling it should feel it's wonderful to _be _awake." she tried bringing her arms alongside her body and pushing herself up, but hissed in pain instead, her arms crossing under the blanket to wrap around herself. "Judging how badly everything hurts, and by the last memories of my patrol run, I take it I'm pretty lucky to be alive?" her eyes snapped open again and she fixed lady-who-sung with a terrified look upon her face. "Drake, where's Drake? I remember him falling under the swarm, then such a sudden rush of fury, blood… then nothing… What happened to him?"

Hearing his own given name, he hummed a happy note in his throat, moved closer and gave her a long wet kiss on the cheek. Her face fell into joyful relief at the sight of him, and she brought her bandaged arms out from under the blanket to hug him closer. "Thank the gods." she murmured into his neck as he scooted closer to let her have a better hold of him. "you are safe, when I saw you fall..."

"The ash warriors would be proud to have you in their ranks." Lady-who-sung said softly, "From what we could tell, you finished off the entire party, and if what you say is true, you did it largely without the assistance of your mabari."

"Fought until the last enemy fell," she murmured against his neck. "I just couldn't stop, couldn't _be _stopped, I was so furious, I thought I'd lost him."

Lady-who-sung chuckled slightly. "In truth, without him, you would have perished."

Mistress loosened her hold on him and looked back to lady-who-sung, listening attentively as she described when they had found the battlefield and the darkspawn, what they had seen, and when they had been found. Lady-who-sung went to great lengths to tell of everything he had done to keep her safe, how much pain he had endured for hours on end, and how he had never left her side.

"Without Drake, we would have lost you…" Lady-who-sung finished, looking somewhat drained from the telling of the tale. "Everyone was so worried, I think even Morrigan was a little concerned about you."

Mistress had a soft contented smile upon her face, and while her hands still rubbed lovingly down his neck and back, she had a far off look in her eyes. "I see." she murmured softly. "I, feel very grateful to have so many people to worry about me. After I left my clan… I didn't think I'd ever find that again." she looked right into his large face and her smile widened. "Thank you, my dear friend, for always looking after me, I owe you my life all over again."

He woofed and wagged his tail, giving her another long lick on her cheek, to which she laughed.

Lady-who-sung watched them with a smile across her face, one that slowly slipped away into anxiety. She dropped her gaze to her lap and began fiddling with the hem of her amour nervously. "Teardra, I… there is something I wish to say."

Mistress turned back to the human and her face grew serious again, he followed her look and was surprised at how nervous lady-who-sung looked. She bit her lower lip and refused to meet mistress's eye for several seconds, before taking in a deep breath and forcing herself to meet the elf's gaze.

"When you didn't come back, I was scared. More scared than I have been in a very long time, and then, when we found you, when I saw you just lying there…" she twisted her hands around each other painfully hard. "I felt my world go cold, you were so wounded. I thought," she swallowed. "I thought I'd lost you, and I… I never had the chance to tell you, never had the courage to admit… how much you mean to me."

She bit her lip again, carefully studying Mistress's expression, then let out a very nervous giggle. "This, isn't really how I planned to tell you but, I want to say it before another moment passes me by, because, well, there might never be another moment." she took another deep breath. "I-"

Mistress's fingers were suddenly upon the full lips, stilling their movement and drawing a surprised look from the blue eyes above them. He watched in great interest as Mistress's slim fingers traced their way across the lips, her hand coming around to cup at the pale cheek.

"Leliana," Mistress began in a whisper, "If you were about to say what I think you were, could I perhaps ask you one favor?" she smiled with a deep affection in her eyes. "Would you perhaps consent to wait to finished that sentence until I feel fit enough to show you exactly how much you mean to me in return?"

Mistress began stroking her thumb along the cheek, and Lady-who-sung leaned into the caress. "I promise you that, if nothing else, I will _make _a moment, just for the two of us, and soon."

Lady-who-sung brought up her own hand to clasp around Mistress's, and she smiled, a thin line of tears under her eyes. She nodded.

Two legs had such complicated interplay, he thought, always drawing things out and making them harder than they had to be. But at least Mistress wasn't as clueless to the affections of Lady-who-sung as he thought, which made him even happier than he had been, if that were possible.

"Good, thank you, Leliana." Mistress sighed slightly and closed her eyes. "I am afraid that I feel greatly tired still," she smiled ironically. "Odd that, I was comatose all night and yet I am still weary this morn…"

"Then rest, my brave dalish hunter, so that we may have our leader returned, and so that you and I may have our moment." Lady-who-sung slowly let down the hand at her cheek, but intertwined their fingers in her lap, and then looked over at him. "and you as well, Drake, we'll have the both of you back on your feet before the week's end."

Mistress chuckled. "Good to know our timeframe, huh, Drake? Let's not keep everyone waiting."

He wagged his tail again, and carefully set his head down near her own, keeping himself as close to her as he could, the both of them settling back down for a long slumber. As he closed his eyes and began to listen to the rhythm of her breathing, a lyrical voice began a slow calming melody.

The two wounded warriors drifted off to sleep side by side, lulled along by the angelic voice of lady-who-sung. Outside of their resting place, the rest of the pack paused in the preparation of the meal, and listened to the melody, and though it sounded a little different to every ear, they all felt its synchronization.

Drifting upon the edge of sleep, he could still feel the newly strengthened pack sense of the group surge in triumph at the song, then he fell back into the peaceful darkness of rest. Knowing that Mistress and himself, were well guarded.

* * *

This was a really interesting piece to do, all from the eyes of the dog and mostly in suffering and worry, and yet I still managed to get all the awesome characters in there with fairly large parts of there own.

On that note, I started this story before I had actually made it to Orzammar, which means I didn't have Oghren on my team yet. I might go back and put him in if I feel he fits, but I might not. I'd actually like to see what others thought about it first.

Also, much love for Leliana here, there aren't enough femPC/Leliana fics out there yet. :)

I'd be eternally grateful for any reviews sent my way, I really enjoyed writing this story and I hope you enjoyed reading it just as much.


End file.
